


wilting flowers (as the sea shines beyond)

by bodybag_queen



Series: wilting flowers (as the sea shines beyond) [1]
Category: Naruto, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, M/M, No Lemons, No Smut, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2020-06-23 19:25:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19707889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bodybag_queen/pseuds/bodybag_queen
Summary: As death withers eight flowers, life blooms again.A girl, her sisters. A boy, his brothers. Death, and life. Over and over again.Careful, she followed you. Careful, soldier. Careful. Your family and loved ones rely on you to keep them safe. Careful, careful, or she’ll kill them. Careful, careful. You’re the only one you can trust. Or are you?Careful, careful, you weren’t the only one.





	1. Prologue: An Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> I DO NOT CLAIM NARUTO OR BTS  
> This will be the only disclaimer.
> 
> Discord link:  
> https://discord.gg/yaXv8g3

Chaos. Pure, utter, chaos. The beautiful room had become a bloody war zone. Bodies of girls, not even twenty, riddles with bullet holes. Blood pooled under their corpses and stained the wooden flooring a deep crimson. She could see, from her place on the floor,

bodies  
_bodies_  
**_bodies_**

Desperately, she tried to reach her sisters.

Please, please, please. You live. Please, please, please.

Cold floors. Cold bodies. Cold blood.

In the end, she failed. Her sisters lay on the cold wooden floor, lifeblood  
  
drip  
_drip_  
**_dripping_**

out with every sluggish beat of their hearts.

How did it come to this?

————————————————————————————————————————————————

 _It was a beautiful_ _day. The cold wind blew through the streets of Busan. Fat, fluffy flakes of snow drifted from the clouds to rest on buildings and gently nestle into hair. The first snow of the year. A soft, white, inviting blanket lay over the bustling city._

_Far below the clouds, clusters of fans of the famous KPOP band, BTS, or Bangtan Sonyeondan, made their way to towering building to be seated for the impending fanmeet. Three lucky girls, sisters, clutched ARMY bombs and tickets in their freezing hands. The oldest, Iseul, led one of her younger sisters along the sidewalk as she fantasized of a destined love with, arguably ,the most famous band in existence. The youngest, Minji, daydreamed of her first meeting with BTS. How one might fall for her. The sister in-between, Sunja, laughed at her sister’s musings and cheerfully began to chatter about the latest fanfiction she had read about an eighth member of BTS._

————————————————————————————————————————————————

_Once seated, the sisters gossiped about happenings at school. They arm wrestled. Being the most physically weak of the three, Sunja lost constantly. They played Rock-Paper-Scissors to determine who would meet the band first. Minji won with extraordinary luck, and Iseul lost both her matches, making her the last to greet BTS. Sunja, as always, was in the middle._

_Middle in birth order. Middle in grades. Middle in amount of allowance. Always in the middle. Sunja was bitter, but only a little. Her grades weren’t terrible, two B’s at most each semester. (Minji always has A’s). Her allowance based on her grades. (Minji always begged their parents for more. They always gave in.) Sunja’s bitterness paled in comparison to her love for her sisters. No matter how much they fought over trivial things, no matter how much they angered her, no matter how much they argued, she loved them more than anything. Even BTS. (Thought they were a close second.) For this reason, and this reason only, she was always content to stay in the shadows of her sisters. No reason to fight over a boy that Iseul liked too if she kept quiet. No reason to flaunt her new, expensive clothing and overshadow Minji if she barely bought anything with her allowance in the first place. No reason to hear her beloved sisters argue over who would buy concert tickets for the three of them if she quietly asked if she could buy the tickets with her stockpiled allowance. If her sisters were happy, Sunja would be happy._

_If asked, Song Minji’s life could be described in one word, talent. She won the talent show at school, pulling just ahead of her older sister, Iseul. She got onto the girls’ soccer team. She ranked first in the classroom and third overall after finals in her grade. Song Minji was very talented, a fact that none failed to remind her of on at least a weekly basis. As time passed, Minji’s ego swelled. She was talented and beautiful, who wouldn’t want her? She began to use the allowance given by her parents to buy clothing from high-end designers, bags from expensive labels, shoes from the best Korea had to offer. If she didn’t have enough, she’d just plead her parents for just a little more. If that didn’t work, she turn her watery eyes towards her older sister, Sunja. Sunja always caved and gave her what she wanted, but Minji always felt a little guilty after receiving her sister’s money. She was the baby, the youngest, though. She should always receive a little extra for having to stand in her sisters’ shadows though, right?_

_Bold, fearless. Iseul was the eldest of three sisters and almost always got her way. Bathroom taken by Minji applying makeup in the morning? No problem. Sunja not able to wake up for cram school? Easily handled. Iseul was bold, unafraid to do what she wanted, when she wanted. Her parents, well meaning but weak-willed, gave in constantly to Minji’s requests for money, and Iseul’s demand for more freedom. Iseul refuses to go to cram school like her sisters, telling her parents that she would study on her own. She would walk boldly through the door late at night, coming home from a party. Iseul was strong, beautiful, bold, and brave. She never surrendered to the expectations to wear makeup. She was confident in her face, and her natural beauty. She never caved to the desires of her classmates and teachers. She walked free and unhindered. Though bold she may be, Iseul was never the most responsible. Her grades would slip after she began binge-watching a new drama. She forgot to do the dishes, sometimes. She forget her allotted chores and lost things at school. That was alright, her sisters would pick up the slack, wouldn’t they? After all, she sacrificed so much time and energy for them. Shouldn’t they understand?_


	2. Really, It Doesn’t Matter What Body

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She wakes up. This body isn’t hers. It’s alright.

In one universe, Uzushiogakure was destroyed. In another, it survived, but not without damage.

Fortunately for us, this is the universe where it _hasn’t_ been destroyed.

Yes, yes. You might be thinking, “Why the hell is whoever this is addressing me?”

I’m dead, so the petty rules of living mortals don’t count for me. I’m dead, have been dead for about five minutes, and fortunately for you, am not my irresponsible sister, so I can tell you what happens. Properly.

Okay. Let’s do this one more time. My name is Song Minji. I am, was, whatever, a HUGE fan girl of BTS. Not on saesang level, but not super casual either. I was one of those girls who read and wrote fanfiction, knew the fanchants and most of the songs. I watched YouTube videos, drew fanart, the whole shebang. I loved the boys with half my heart. The other half belonged to my sisters. As much as I loved the boys, in a choice between saving them and my sisters from a stream of bullets, it was a clear choice.

I stood in front of my sisters, one down from a bullet to the thigh and the other trying to keep her awake. They went through my body like hot knives through butter. Min-ah was hit. As I fell, I watched her try to reassure Min-suh that they would get out alive, that I would be fine, that no, she wasn’t really hit, and reminded her to put pressure on the wound or she’d lose the leg.

Realizing that I, my body, hadn’t moved or spoken a word, Min-suh’s face paled even further. Min-ah turned. A spray of ammunition to the face. Min-ah fell and Min-suh was the last of the three of us.

She hauled herself to her knees. As cartridges of bullets shot through the air, Min-suh grinned and wiped the blood from her wounds into an elaborate pattern on the floor. She had drawn a seal, that our parents had told us would protect us from death. The bullets hit and the world faded back to grey.  
_________________

She wakes in a world not her own. A body not her own. This is someone’s daughter, she thinks. Someone’s precious child.

Panicking, she begins to thrash. A child’s frantic voice cries for “Kaachan! KAACHAN! FUYU-NEE’S AWAKEE!”

The girl’s mind distantly wonders who this “Fuyu-nee” is, and realizes it’s her.

Pain shocks her “body” and she falls again and again and again.  
_________________

It’s a lot easier this time, knowing that she isn’t in her first body, or even her second. This body is light and pale, so skinny that it’s a wonder it stills draws breath. She wonders which body this is. The eighteenth? Ninety-first? It doesn’t matter. It’ll die eventually, and

she’ll

wake

up

again.

She stares impassively through a window that isn’t really a window. Just a cruel painting on the wall. She feels shudders wrack the body and she wonders, _how much time do I have left?_

_How long has it been since the original owner of this body died?_

She closes her eyes and draws a weak, raspy breath.

This

is

the

end.

And

she

f

a

l

l

s.


	3. Chapter 2 (BTS OG HYUNG LINE)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hyung Line has some fun, and a lot of death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I put (BTS OG) and H or M then I’m talking about the original lines (H for Hyung Line and M for Maknae Line). Later on, the lines might get a bit mixed up, but for now, the ages stay the same.

KSJ

I closed my eyes, as I died to save my brothers. My sweet baby brothers. Will they survive? 

Yoongi-ah, please take care of everyone. Don’t hole yourself up in that studio of yours, and please, remember to do the laundry. Hobi-ah, continue to be happy and joyful. Don’t let this get you down. Remember to keep Joonie out of the kitchen. Joonie-ah, please, please, keep our family together. Don’t let us fall apart. Jiminie, don’t starve yourself. I’m gone, but you still look perfect just the way you are. Taehyungie, it’s alright. Don’t put up a mask, it’s okay to let your sadness out. Finally, our little maknae, Jungkookie. It’s okay to cry, just don’t cry for too long. Stay with your hyungs, don’t drift away from them. Don’t wallow in grief all of you. Stay together and be happy. And no one is allowed to say they’re Worldwide Handsome. That’s still my title.

MYG

Looking back, I feel a little guilty. The first time I opened my eyes, I was so caught up in grief that I wouldn’t stop wailing. It must have been difficult for my caretakers.

The second and third lives, I made it past thirty. The fourth time, I died before I could walk. The fifth time, I woke up in a different place. It wasn’t the body of a child, but the body of an old woman who was a both to die. Her children and grandchildren surrounded her bed as I felt myself smile and pat one man’s head and told them not to cry. I closed my eyes for the fifth time.

JHS

After a while, my many lives became a little blurred. The first few, not including the original, were unremarkable and filled with sadness. The next ten or so, I lived to the fullest, dancing as passionately as I did in my first life. The last and most recent one, I had once again become an idol, but this time, had died of cancer. 

It was depressing at first, how I thought that my life wouldn’t matter after my first death, but then I realized how much change that we, as BTS, had brought to the world. After we died, there were many mourners, but the suicides were lower than after many other idols’ deaths. I felt that the message to love yourself had been embraced and in honor of our deaths, many rallied together and spread our message across the world. In my twentieth life, before I died, I joined many of these rallies and sang about the same things that we had sung about after our first debut.

KNJ

In my seventeenth life, there was an idol, a man who shined brighter than the sky. Strangely enough, he reminded me quite a bit of Hoseok-hyung. He was cheerful and always never seemed to stop smiling. His rap style reminded my quite a bit of hyung as well. Too bad I died shortly after realizing that it was Hoseok-hyung.

My eighteenth life, I was dead before I hit 16 but strangely enough, this time period reminded me of late Jeosun. 

After the thirtieth life, I realized that this was an alternate timeline. In some lives, BTS existed, in others, we didn’t. I could be born, live, and die in various time periods and various places. There was no limit to the possibilities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that some parts are a little short!


End file.
